A Pen's G-Spot

I was never skilled at climbing down things. My vision didn't permit me with such talent as depth perception thus making slope grade near impossible to determine. Instead, I use nearly all of my body to climb up. Being able to grab hold of rocks and projecting myself forward has always made me feel more safe. The first place I led him while we hiked was up. I went through some trees and grabbed onto some stones and miraculously, after my panic attack at a stone, we sat at the highest stone on the mountain. Sadly, said stone was no where close to the valley we were originally looking for. The sunlight was hot. I could feel my feet sweating where my tennis shoes lost their mesh and acquired poly-plastic logos. He was hot. His pants were not meant for the weather making them radiate their own form of heat. Luckily, my water managed to maintain some chill. But I still was panting from my panic as we sat gazing at the trees ahead. We were nearly on top of the rock where I refused to...

Almost a week ago, I went on a retreat for a day with a boy and a few bags of trail mix --which, might I add, literally turned into trail mix as he kept throwing bits of the deadly thing at me. Whatever, I love him so I guess it's okay. At the start of our off-trail hike, I became stuck. Irrationally and quite physically stuck... on a rock... maybe ten minutes in... What a blow to pride. Just seconds earlier I was prancing down a trail screaming "we are mountain folk!" only to be terrified of the foundation. Blindly, I was following him across different stepping stones and around trees but when he elegantly leaped from one stone to the other as if the very clouds above us plucked him from the ground, I woke up. I saw that we were on a slope, that the ground under us was sliding, that there was a large gap between the two stones, that there was an unpleasant landing under us, that there was only up that looked easy, and that there was no way in HELL was I continuing le...

Shalom! Ma shlomach? Sababa, sababa. Toda robaba. Le trov! Shalom! I can officially have a five second conversation with the people of Israel as well as say a prayer before we eat. That and I can tell you what fat is (ksulot) and a check for a future date (Check dahuy). What can I say? I am the most useful thing you could have around especially in Bazaars or ordering ice cream.  Ma shlomach? But I've learned more than just dorky words. I learned girls still take selfies here --when they buy a baseball cap and try it on for the first time, they sneak a peak around the coffee shop and hold their phone up against the light to find a perfect angle for pouting their lips and capturing their contained excitement. The bathroom icons are still the same --even though they might lead you to a room with stalls and both of the sexes washing their hands side by side.  Sababa, sababa. Muslim people still pray when they are called --even though an intercom rings through the whole blo...

The host cat and I have become good friends. No longer does he avoid me at all costs but rather resides in my slippers when I perform my yoga activities. I think the only reason he does is because I have been known to sneak in some bits of Bologna to him despite the wishes of my house host. But now, he licks my fingers when I walk up to him and occasionally lets me pet him without biting me. He kisses me on my nose and we touch foreheads looking into each other's eyes. He makes me homesick. I miss him. Over eight hours of skype calls can't replace the ten seconds of when his lips met my forehead and I know we're okay. This was about a cat and still is --directly and indirectly as he has joking wrote to his friends back home that I am feline-like in more than one manner. I don't write love poetry --I don't write love letters. I don't tell people how I feel enough, I just want them to be happy no matter the cost. Money is not an issue --I'm an emotional mill...

We went along the silk roads to meet with Middle Eastern merchants who sold textiles from China and spices from India. Lines of stores with Russian women filled the streets with stores filled with Israeli men selling anything from brooms to strollers to fish to houses to skirts to spices to even tattoos. My eyes ran back and forth from one side to the other while I didn't risk crossing the street. The old Arabian district of Ashqelon with the new machinery of cars that seem to only car about their path and not the curbs in their way mind you the other cars. (Although when a friend is spotted, they stop as they would without wheels. Mishmas!) Since stores close at three for lunch, I have a whole list of things I need to buy: A souvenir for my parents A tapestry that fits him better than the holed one he has and that was used to star gaze when we were young and spitting invites with lies of conformation A white skirt for a photo shoot I swear will fit in my schedule Something ...

I have been wailing all day enclosed by walls and windows of a tour bus. I had my mothers note tucked in my headdress and mine shoved even further. A prayer to god. A letter filled with desires to the almighty with a higher chance of them coming true should be the easiest to write. Shit --it's like asking a genii. Yet, I polished the lamp from a hundred years of tarnish with tears on my paper. I am not religious, I am not selfish enough to write a letter with aspirations. Dear god, don't give me anything. Let me deserve you. I have been practicing all day as to what I would say to someone that has been watching me rehearse. I pray I can believe in you. There was a bus of Russians who near all want to visit a shrine and religious place to get closer to god. I wanted to stumble off the beaten path and pet kitty cats. I want to crawl into a catacomb and dance with the deceased. People kept asking me if I'm lost and needed religious guidance in a religious affiliated store...

This was meant to be an email masked with the subject "Travel Log One" to the one I am interested in. He has made contact with me so there is a chance I will be less bitchy in the next log but for now --I am going back to gorging on Milka and so-far-from-kosher Bologna. Enjoy. "The flight was horrendous in every sense but the people around me. We were originally delayed half an hour so my grandparents and I proceeded to rot away in the airport lounge. My grandfather had three suppers while I successfully accomplished a sun salutation for the sun rising and setting. It wasn't until 8:40 did the flight arrive "on time" and our lounge was sprung into catching our flight. We were ushered by thick black women to a security check point where black men screamed what article of clothing we should take off before boarding our double decker plane. Fancy shit. I was placed behind a Rabbi and next to a woman from Orlando who showed me every photo in her librar...

I would lie to all of my four readers that I have been busy. I would go on to lie that I would get better and timely. I would continue by saying I had school and work and life and pets and everything. And I wouldn't stop there. Would, wouldn't Shouldn't, should Could Do On a more honest note, I haven't been feeling worthy enough to reserve more internet space. I feel bad wasting megabytes talking about things that for a long time, I thought no one cared about. Readers.. It's hard to keep up a routine when the most feedback the creator receives is IP addresses that lead to pornography and weight loss schemes. Unless those addresses that link to here some convoluted way, I am human. I haven't been writing as much as I should be, as much as I would be. But I wish to instill calmness, it's only to better myself. I am tired of romanticizing a reality I pretend exists because I am not a fantasy writer.  I have been attending different poetry...

Special announcement! Can't miss event! Welcome to the new image, welcome to the next step Meet the old self before Alice flies away.

With the New Year in full blast, I am actually keeping up with my resolutions! Despite the work load I have, I have been having unimaginable success with my goal to start workshops for charity. My writing as always been for the people and in honor of that, I decided to branch out and not only give back to my readers but the community. For the community. For the community I am parading my ideas around without anyone's input. Recently, I went to a Meet the Author event at my local library (next one is the 21st at Southglenn Library) and answered everything and anything ranging from my process to my opinion on drugs. First time I can honestly say I was there for my community, at their disposal. And that was exhilarating and I need more. So I here by welcome you to change. Welcome to Locals Only, part of Makery Productions --the new tab found on A Pen's G-Spot. This tab is for the community. For those of us who have felt what it's like to receive a rejection for not one, not ...

Sticks and stones might break my bones but words will never hurt me. Lies. Quite frankly that last time I was hit with a stick, it left a bruise upon impact. Words on the other hand sting. Words burn. Words engrave on my skin. I find myself apologizing for being insulted and not being good enough. For the longest time, I didn't check my amazon page because nothing seemed to be happening but a little less than a week ago, I realized I had my first review! My heart started racing and to make matters worse, my internet was faltering making the anticipation unbearable. I was pumped, I was excited. Finally, a real person, someone I probably don't know, was giving me their honest opinion! But, the review gave me great feedback and a pain in my chest. It was honest alright and I appreciate it. I'm glad I read it, I'm glad I found it, but most importantly, I'm glad I know what to do to better my writing. I am sorry for the one who read my book and didn't receive ...